


but the war's still going on, dear

by flowersforgraves



Series: BTHB [27]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Explosives, Gen, Self-Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 14:16:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowersforgraves/pseuds/flowersforgraves
Summary: Being dead doesn't mean it's time to stop fighting.





	but the war's still going on, dear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flammenkobold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flammenkobold/gifts).



> Prompt from flammenkobold via discord: 'Taking You With Me' + something TMA
> 
> Card: [here on Imgur](https://imgur.com/VtOGzNh) // List of claimed prompts: [here on Tumblr](https://flowersforgraves.tumblr.com/post/184817489731/)
> 
> Prompt me via Dreamwidth or Tumblr!

Sasha’s hand around his wrist is the only point of contact keeping him grounded. Tim is past the point of fear -- almost like he’s reached capacity somehow, where his fear sensors are just fucking burnt out, incapable of registering any more shock than what’s already there. He’s not, however, past the point of pain. Sasha’s nails are digging into his skin; she’ll leave nail marks if not scabs afterward.

“Sasha,” he says, voice raspy from smoke inhalation and emotion, “we need to go.”

She turns back to the view below them. The Slaughter is slowly, methodically pushing through the defenses -- it can only be the Vast, fielding gaping maws that swallow the Slaughter’s soldiers into nothingness. “We can’t,” she says.

“What the fuck,” Tim says, but he knows what she’s getting at. He’s known deep in his chest since this particular battle had started. He’s fucking terrified, because he fucking _died_ and he’s only just found Sasha -- the real Sasha -- again, and he doesn’t know what happens if you die a second time.

She tugs on his arm. “ _Tim_.” She holds out her hand, waiting for him to give her something. 

“I --” _I don’t have anything to stop it with,_ he’s about to say, and then he looks down and in his hand is the detonator. It’s exactly the same one that blew up the Unknowing, which -- he’s not sure how he knows that, but he does, sure as he knows he’s dead. “I’ll do it,” Tim tells her.

Sasha looks at him, and time seems to slow down. She’s about an inch taller than him, but it’s close enough that their eyes meet easily. He notices things about her, like the way her warm brown eyes are cold with determination now, like the tightness in the set of her jaw. She notices things about him, like the faint frown lines that are present even when he’s not angry, like the exhaustion bleeding from every pore.

“We’ll do it together,” she says.

Tim doesn’t know how to do anything but agree, so he does, and Sasha hoists him up onto the railing before pulling herself up next to him.

“Where are the explosives?” he asks, even though he’ll have no idea whether it’s a good place or not, even if she can tell him.

She shrugs. “I’m not sure.”

He reaches out for her hand. She startles a bit, but allows him to tangle their fingers together, his left hand and her right. “Jon can eat my entire ass,” he tells her. “I’ll have died twice for a cause I don’t even want. He wants it so bad? Next time _he_ can do the dying.”

She laughs, snorting trailing off into giggles. She’s been told by old partners that her laugh is ugly, but it’s clear, pure bell tones in Tim’s ears, simply by virtue of being Sasha. “Who knows,” she says. “Maybe we won’t die. You can have a third go at it.”

He cracks a smile. 

They jump off the balcony, hand in hand.

Tim pushes the button again.


End file.
